


Visitors of the Trembling Earth

by TheFandomLesbian



Series: Spencer's Raulson One-Shots [48]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Not Season 8 compliant, foxxay - Freeform, raulson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23176957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian
Summary: The coven declares their overworked Supreme should be forced to take a vacation. Misty chooses to take Cordelia to the Okefenokee Swamp, land of the trembling earth. But once there, plans go awry, separating them from the rest of the tour group and leaving them on the mercy of the unforgiving land.
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode
Series: Spencer's Raulson One-Shots [48]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1214643
Comments: 15
Kudos: 43





	Visitors of the Trembling Earth

**Author's Note:**

> For a Foxxay dialogue prompt: "Don't leave me alone."

The coven had decided: Cordelia needed a vacation. 

It all started when Misty found her asleep in a chair in the greenhouse, face-first in a rather prickly plant. “Miss Cordelia,” she said as she plucked the thorns from her face, “You have to take a break. You’re running yourself ragged.” The coven had never been ready to accommodate as many students as Cordelia had brought onto the campus, and with only one person educated and trying to supervise all the students  _ and  _ fill out all the paperwork _ and  _ communicate with all the parents, she was falling short. 

Cordelia blinked under Misty’s soft hands, relishing in the feeling of them against her face. It was a good distraction, her work, from the pain of everything else in her life. She was single, childless, had amounted to very little in her life (she refused to hear reason from the more uplifting personalities in her coven that she had actually become a great leader), and was now acutely aware that she was staring down the barrel of middle age in just a few short years. “It’s not like I have anything else to do,” she said to Misty with a glum shrug. Misty sucked her lower lip, gazing down at her, and Cordelia could feel the sorrow coming from her. 

Unbeknownst to Cordelia, her girls were getting much better at taking care of her by the day. “Council meeting,” Misty passed around to Zoe, “tonight at ten, after Cordelia’s in bed.” Of course, it was traditional for the Supreme to be uninvolved in the goings-on of the council—the council was the organization responsible for ensuring the coven’s and the Supreme’s adherence to the sacred rules—but when this council hosted a meeting without Cordelia, it typically was because they needed to talk  _ about _ Cordelia. 

Zoe passed it on to Queenie, who passed it on to Nan, who passed it on to Madison, and Kyle tagged along just because he could, so that night, they all clustered with hushed voices in Zoe’s and Madison’s room. Misty stood at the front of the small crowd, facing them; after all, she had been the one to call the meeting. “We have to make Cordelia take a vacation.” 

“Yep,” Queenie agreed, and Madison chirped, “Roger that,” while Zoe said, “No arguments here.” 

Misty blinked, a little astonished at the rate with which they had all collectively agreed with her. “I have to admit, I was expecting a little more resistance.” At their last meeting, she and Madison had wound up fist fighting in the hallway, woken Cordelia, and then Nan had spun the most intricate lie that they were trying to rearrange the portraits of the former Supremes in the order of most honorable after they finished painting the walls of the foyer, and they wound up arguing over both color  _ and _ the best Supreme. Cordelia had bought it, but it had left them on the hook for repainting the entire foyer and rearranging the portraits. 

Queenie tilted her head. “She fell asleep when we went out to get groceries the other day. I left her in the car and did all the shopping without her. She didn’t wake up until we got home.”

Zoe nodded. “I found her asleep at the kitchen table with a half-eaten banana in her hand.”

“I caught her from falling down the stairs twice last week,” Madison said. “I thought I was past that when she got her eyes back.” 

“She called me Spalding the other day,” Kyle said. “I don’t even look anything like him.”

Everyone looked at Nan, who had been unusually quiet for one of their council meetings. Misty pulled up a chair and sat down backward in it, tired of standing up for so long. “Nan, you haven’t said much. What’s going on?” Misty asked. Nan had more access to Cordelia’s thoughts than any of them, however much she wished she didn’t, and as they all realized this, they faced her. 

Nan cleared her throat. “I can’t tell you what our Supreme thinks.” They waited, still, for some coherent answer, and she sighed. “Cordelia is sad. She’s lonely, disappointed in herself, and also she’s horny a lot.”

“Did not need to know that,” Queenie provided, as Madison contributed, “Well, we can fix that.” They exchanged a look with one another, each making a face at the other, before returning their attention to Nan. 

“So what is our best course of action?” Zoe asked. 

Sometimes, they doubted Nan’s plans, but Nan was privy to Cordelia’s innermost thoughts and feelings, and that meant she knew most intimately the best way to solve the problem of their exhausted Supreme. “We surprise her. Misty takes her away from here, somewhere on a vacation, at least five days.”

“Why Misty?” Queenie asked. “I want a vacation.” 

“Oh, they’re both crushing on each other.”

Misty flushed. “You didn’t have to  _ tell them— _ wait, really? It’s mutual?”

“It’s super mutual,” Nan confirmed. “You get a hotel room, only one bed. She trusts you more than the rest of us. She thinks Madison is still out to kill her, Queenie may perform voodoo at anytime, Zoe might summon evil spirits, and I’m too dumb. You’re the one she likes the best.” 

Madison scowled, crossing her arms and kicking out her legs in an effort to stretch them. “I was never out to kill  _ her. _ It was the rest of you I had it in for.” 

“I only summoned an evil spirit once!” Zoe rebuked. Queenie didn’t have a defense for herself for the voodoo remark. 

Nan held up her hand. “Okay, that’s enough. Back to the plan—you woo her. Fancy restaurants. Make her feel really pretty and young again. Get married in Vegas or something spontaneous. When you come back, you should be an item. With a vacation under her belt  _ and _ a girlfriend, Cordelia should be good as new and ready to serve as Supreme again.”

Misty hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek. It was true—she had dreamed of being with Cordelia since she had come here and met her for the first time. It was like everything she had ever wanted in a woman was embodied in Cordelia: magic, maturity, beauty, kindness, compassion, love. But she couldn’t help but think about if things went awry. “I dunno. It feels awful deceitful for me to go in just expecting that she’s cave to my wishes. I don’t wanna be manipulative.” She wanted Cordelia to be better, not to have a new influx of trust issues. “Besides, what if our relationship craps out? Then we’re both stuck living together for ages, or I’d have to move out, and I like it here.” 

“Don’t think of it as _ caving. _ You’re gonna give her what she wants, which is you. And it won’t be deceitful, because when it’s all over and you’re in love, you can tell her the truth. She won’t be mad at you. She thinks you can do no wrong.” 

“I like this plan,” Zoe said. 

Madison nodded. “Much better than us all having an orgy with Cordelia.” Queenie scowled and Nan fake-gagged. “What? That’s how you fix somebody who’s horny. Sometimes I think none of you ever have sex at all.” Madison leaned back in her chair. “Anyway, Swampy, where are you gonna take her?” 

Misty thought for a moment. “The Okefenokee swamp,” she decided. 

The entire council collectively groaned. 

… 

A week later, Misty finished loading their things into the back of Cordelia’s car just before ten in the morning. The coven had helped her distract Cordelia while she packed bags of clothes for her from her room. Now, Cordelia was sleeping. They had prepared breakfast for her, and Misty slammed the trunk of the vehicle closed and headed into the house, picking up the breakfast tray and heading up the stairs to Cordelia’s bedroom door. Misty knocked twice. “Hey, Miss Cordelia?” 

From inside the room, the sound of her stirring came, and then Cordelia fumbled around with a soft, “Shit! I overslept!” Misty smiled to herself. She had turned off Cordelia’s alarm clock the night before. Cordelia jiggled the key to unlock her bedroom door and opened it with a look of disheveled panic. “Misty!” Her brown eyes were the softest, sweetest thing Misty had ever allowed herself to sink into. “Is everything okay? I overslept, I’m so sorry.” She blinked inquisitively down at the tray of food Misty had prepared. “I’m not sick,” she said. 

Misty chuckled to herself. “I know. I turned off your alarm last night so you would have a good night’s rest.” Cordelia’s brow furrowed, confused and perhaps slightly irritated. “We had a council meeting, and we decided you’re working too hard. It violates a code in the tome of  _ Magical Supreme Practice _ for you to be as exhausted as you’ve been.” Nan had given her that line. She had had to rehearse it. “So I’m taking you on a vacation.” She held out the breakfast tray to Cordelia. “Eat up.”

Cordelia wore a strange look on her face. “But—But I can’t take a vacation. I have things to do. I have a meeting with the Louisiana board of education tomorrow—”

“Zoe took care of that.”

“I’m going to a seminar in Baton Rouge—”

“Queenie’s doing the seminar.” Cordelia opened her mouth to protest again, but Misty put down the tray on Cordelia’s bedside table and touched her waist. “Hey.  _ Everything is covered. _ ” She said it slowly, enunciating every word.  _ Really turn on the charm.  _ Misty had no idea how to do that, but Nan had recommended it. “Zoe’s doing board of education, Queenie’s on the seminar, Madison is covering your interview with the magazine, and Nan’s staying here to keep in everybody’s heads so nobody gets blown up.  _ Everything is fine. _ ” 

Cordelia’s mouth opened and closed and opened and then closed again. “But… where are we going?” she asked finally. “How long will we be gone?” 

“We’ll be gone for five days. But where we’re going… That’s classified.” They had decided that, if Misty insisted upon taking Cordelia to the Okefenokee swamp (and she did), she should absolutely keep it a secret until they were close enough that Cordelia couldn’t resist. But, as much as Nan thought she knew Cordelia better than anybody else, Misty knew that the forest there was rejuvenating. The water and bogs held their own form of soulful magic. Misty trusted it could restore Cordelia better than anything else. Besides, isolated trails in the middle of the wilderness were the best way to bond… At least in Misty’s opinion. 

Still looking rather shocked, Cordelia’s eyes fluttered. “Are you  _ sure _ everything is taken care of?”

“More sure than anything,” Misty reassured. She smiled. “C’mon. Five days, just me and you. Perk up.” She winked. 

A blush warmed Cordelia’s cheeks, and she smiled back. The expression warmed the pit of Misty’s stomach, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen it. How long had it been since Cordelia had smiled?  _ Too long,  _ Misty decided. “Thank you, Misty,” Cordelia conceded.  _ Operation Save the Supreme is a go. _

…

The stereo hummed a Stevie Nicks CD Misty had purchased special for the trip. In the passenger seat, Cordelia reclined, snoring along peacefully.  _ She really was exhausted.  _ Misty’s telephone rang. She swiped to answer it. “It’s Misty.”

“Hey, how are things going?” Zoe asked. 

“They’re good. Cordelia’s asleep. She conked out when we crossed into Mississippi and hasn’t woken up yet.” 

“Where are you?”

“We just passed through Mobile. I’m about to stop us for a pee break. I could use a Big Red. Do they sell Big Reds in Alabama?” 

Zoe hummed, like she didn’t know or didn’t care or both.  _ Probably both.  _ “So. um, Nan was wondering if you had had any luck in the… other department yet. She’s pretty insistent you have to get a move on it fast.”

“I can’t get a move on it while I’m driving. Besides, she’s asleep. I’m not pulling a Sleeping Beauty on her.” Misty’s eyes darted over to Cordelia, who stirred a little, but then she settled down. “I’ll update y’all through text tomorrow, but honestly, I think Nan’s hopes are a little too high for this one.”

“Just try to kiss her by tonight, okay? That’s what Nan wants.”

“Blah, blah, blah, what Nan wants. You’d think  _ she  _ wants to be involved in this relationship.”

“Maybe she does.” 

Cordelia fumbled awake, her fists rubbing at her eyes. “Involved in what relationship?” she mumbled as her sleepy brown eyes found Misty over the dashboard.  _ Oh, shit, how much did she hear?  _ Misty sucked her teeth, trying to keep from betraying anything until Cordelia clarified. “Is Nan dating someone?” she asked.  _ Oh, great, she didn’t hear anything.  _

“No, Nan’s not dating anybody,” Misty soothed, “least as far as I know. Hey, Zoe, we’re gonna go. I gotta pee like a racehorse, and getting off the interstate might as well be a professional sport.” It wasn’t that bad, but she hadn’t had much time with Cordelia awake since they got in the car, and if Nan was insistent that she get started on the wooing now, she needed the privacy. 

Zoe chuckled. “Alright. Call when you get there.” 

The road kept humming by, and as Misty ended the call, she glanced over at Cordelia. “Do you have anywhere you want to eat?” It was Cordelia’s trip, and all Misty wanted was a Big Red and a thing of French fries, which she could get almost anywhere.  _ If not fries, then chips… something from potatoes. _ She was in a potato type of mood. 

Cordelia shook her head. “I’ll grab something wherever we go to the bathroom, which is becoming a more urgent need.”

“I hear you. So is gas.” So, at the next exit, Misty cruised right off into a little middle nowhere town to fill up the tank, and Cordelia ran inside while Misty pumped the gas, leaning against the side of the vehicle and tilting her head back to stare up at the blue sky with its fluffy cotton candy clouds. The sun shone so perfectly. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself already in the swamp, listening to the whir of the cicadas and the humming of the crickets and the babbling of the brooks and everything else restorative about leaving the cityscape and entering the wilderness for a spell. 

The sound of approaching footsteps caused Misty to lift her head back upright. She had expected Cordelia, but the clomping boots didn’t match Cordelia’s soft footsteps, and as Misty blinked, a heavyset man came into focus. He was burly, broad, muscular, wearing combat boots and a few layers of camouflage. “Hey there, little miss,” he purred. “What are you doing today?”

Misty narrowed her eyes as his shadow enveloped her. She didn’t like that one bit. She drew herself up taller in response. “I think I’m pumping my gas, same as you.” There were uncomfortable, tingling prickles down the back of her neck; it was the same feeling she got when there was a death nearby. “Or I can’t think of any other reason for you to be down at the gas pumps. Store entrance is that way.”

He flashed a coy grin. “Well, maybe I found something luring me outside the perimeter,” he teased, tossing his dark hair. “Takes a well-baited hook, but I’ll bite.”  _ Please, hold off on the metaphors about how you kill animals,  _ Misty wanted to scoff, but she bit her tongue. She wouldn’t be unnecessarily rude to someone who meant her no harm, even if his habits did disgust her. “Tell me, sugar, what’s your name?” 

“Ain’t nothing you ever wanted to know.” 

Cordelia trotted out of the gas station with a stock of snacks and two large pops. She handed one to Misty. “Hey, Misty, I got you a Big Red. Who’s this?” she asked, blinking to the gentleman. 

He winked, extending a hand to Cordelia. “Logan Brosmer, at your service, ma’am. I was just trying to finagle your friend here into giving me her number.”

A scowl crossed Cordelia’s face. She did not relinquish either of her pops to shake his hand. “Maybe if there’s  _ finagling _ to be done, she doesn’t want to give you her number,” she purred evenly. 

_That’s my girl._ Misty shuffled closer to her. _Should I?_ She desperately wanted to put an arm around Cordelia’s waist, exhibit her possession, but the last thing she wanted to do was offend Cordelia in some way. She hovered close beside her, one arm folding around the small of Cordelia’s back. She swept the parking lot with her eyes, searching for a vehicle that matched the personality of this Logan character. _Aha._ There it was—a green Ford F-150 with a freshly slaughtered buck in the bed. _It ain’t even hunting season._ The buck had a large rack, but it was still covered in felt. She had found the source of the soul crying out to her. “Sir, I’d love to keep interacting with your _finagling,_ ” Misty said with a smirk, “but it appears you’ve got a little problem going on in the bed of your truck.”

As she spoke, the buck stumbled to life, its wounds closing up. It sprang, disoriented, from the back of his truck. Its rack draped a net that the truck had held, and it tossed a few times before it loosened it. The frightened animal pranced about. Logan whirled around. “Whoa, whoa whoa!” He waved his hands, as if expecting the buck to die again if he stomped and pouted correctly. As he approached, the buck lowered its rack and snorted at him. It gored him to the ground. 

“Oof,” Cordelia whispered when it stomped on him. A few spectators gathered around to film. “Harsh, Misty.” 

Misty grinned, turning her head just enough to smell Cordelia’s hair discreetly.  _ Oh, yes, this is bliss.  _ “Fucker had it coming. I gotta pee.” She dragged her hand along the small of Cordelia’s back as she removed it from her person, not looking back to see the flush crawling up Cordelia’s face. 

…

Much later that night, Misty left the shower in the hotel room, her hair wrung out and drying damp. Cordelia rested on the bed, an open book in her lap and reading glasses pushed up the bridge of her nose. The bedside lamp cast the room in a dim light. Misty sat beside her on the bed, tugging the covers back and sinking beneath them in her nightgown. “Hey.”  _ Be bold.  _ Nan was breathing down her neck. She had finally muted her phone to keep from seeing all the incoming notifications. Brown eyes met hers. She reached out a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind Cordelia’s ear. Her plush lips formed a little purse, like she wanted to speak but wasn’t sure what to say. “What are you reading?” 

Cordelia lifted the cover of the book to show her. “ _ The Last Unicorn, _ ” she said as she placed her bookmark between the pages. “I used to love to read fiction. It’s hard to find time these days.” Misty smiled at her, but Cordelia abruptly looked away, closing the book and placing it on the bedside table. “Misty, I…” Her lips struggled to form words, buffering on and off of one another for a considerable moment, before she finally said, “I heard what Zoe said to you earlier, on the phone.” 

Misty paused.  _ Oh, shit.  _ She tried to think of a fast way to save herself, but without the rest of the council to help her plan, her ability to be dishonest was downright terrible. “Well?” she finally asked, trying to reach for Cordelia’s feelings on the matter before she dug the hole deeper or sold herself short. “What do you think?”

“What are they giving you in return?” 

“… Huh?” 

Cordelia frowned. “Aren’t they bartering something with you in exchange for making me happy for a few days? Giving me the illusion of some romance?” 

“ _ Illusion? _ ” Misty repeated, baffled. “I’m the least deceitful person in the whole coven. If they wanted somebody to build an illusion, they would’ve sent Madison.” Her brows quirked tight together, uncertain how to even continue. “They’re not giving me anything. Nan decided since I liked you and you liked me, I should take you and finally stop torturing her by staying up at night thinking about you.” 

Silence followed. Cordelia squinted at her, like she waited for the punchline to some horrible, raw joke; it was a quizzical, skeptical look. Misty wasn’t sure if she liked that look or not. She licked her lips, wondering if she should keep talking or give Cordelia some time to process. She didn’t know how not to talk, so she decided to ask again, softer this time, “What do you think?” as her eyes mellowed with uncertainty.  _ I wasn’t supposed to tell her until the trip was over.  _ What if she had just ruined everything? 

Cordelia hesitated. “Are you telling me the truth?” she asked slowly, carefully. Her voice was quiet and heartsick. 

Tilting her head, Misty reached out a hand and caressed Cordelia’s face. “Of course I am. I would never lie to you.” She trailed her thumb over Cordelia’s cheekbone. “I would not have done any of this if I thought anyone meant to hurt you. We were all worried about you… I want to help.” 

Brown eyes flitted away from hers. “I don’t think you know what you’re saying.” But she leaned into Misty’s embrace, regardless, and her hand floated up to her cheek and covered Misty’s. Misty almost expected her to try to take it away, but instead, she pressed it more firmly there. “I—I care about you immensely, Misty. But I don’t know if I’m good enough to be in a relationship with you.” 

“Good enough?” Misty repeated. She seemed to be on a roll of repeating the things Cordelia said about herself to point out how ridiculous they sounded. “You’re the Supreme. You’re  _ literally _ the top bitch witch. Do you think  _ anyone  _ is too good for you?” A soft, embarrassed smile crossed Cordelia’s lips. Her cheeks warmed under Misty’s touch. “I spent months telling myself I couldn’t bother you because you were too perfect for me to ever touch…”  _ I still kind of think that, if I’m being honest.  _ She suppressed it. She was acting on it, now; it was too late to be insecure. “You are good enough for anyone you could ever want. You’re way out of my league.”

Cordelia’s lips buffered against each other, trying to find a coherent argument for her insecurities, which were rapidly being uprooted. “But—I’m still quite a bit older than you are…” 

“Five years difference doesn’t exactly make you geriatric,” Misty reminded her. 

“Is that all there is?”

“I did the math many, many times.” 

Cordelia chuckled. Her whole face was red with shame, like a blushing teenager. She ducked her head. “Do you—Do you really think there is anything loveable about me at all?” she asked in a whisper. 

Misty tilted her chin upward with her finger. “I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you.” She said it like a promise, like a vow, and Cordelia’s brown eyes held hers as she spoke the words. They leaned in together, in synchronization, and their lips met. It surpassed every dream Misty had ever had of kissing Cordelia—their mouths moved opposite one another, grinding, lips embracing and then sinking deeper and deeper into it. 

Scooting nearer, both of Misty’s hands caught up in Cordelia’s body, and she slid beside her, facing her. Cordelia moaned into her mouth. One of her hands reached around Misty’s body and held her there, relishing in her nearness. Her mouth slipped off of Misty’s to breathe. She panted unevenly into the crook of Misty’s neck. “I never dreamed you felt the same way I did,” she whispered. One hand combed through Misty’s damp curls. Misty peppered kisses onto her neck. Cordelia giggled and squirmed. “We’re in Florida,” Cordelia murmured as she leaned her head to give Misty better access to the skin revealed by her flannel pajamas. “Are you taking me to Disney World?” 

“Mmm…” Misty drew back, licking her lips. “No… We’re actually going to Georgia. This is the closest hotel I could find to the place we’re going, but the entrance is on the other side of the state line.” 

“Oh. Hm.” Cordelia pulled the covers up and wriggled closer to Misty, enjoying the feel of their arms all entangled in one another. “I can’t think of anything exciting in Georgia that’s not in Atlanta.” 

“It’s probably not your definition of exciting,” Misty confessed, “but I think it’s the best place you can go to feel like a person again.”

Cordelia paused. “It’s a swamp, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, yeah, it’s a swamp.”

…

The next morning, they found themselves under a sign labeled “Okefenokee Swamp: Land of the Trembling Earth” in a queue to shuffle their way into a wildlife and environmental reservation. To Cordelia’s credit, she had not even slightly protested that Misty dragged her eight hours away from home to take her to a swamp; Misty appreciated that. “So,” Cordelia asked, “what makes this swamp so much different from the other swamps back home?” It wasn’t a loaded question; she sounded genuinely curious. 

“This is the largest blackwater swamp in North America. It’s a national landmark, and it’s one of the seven wonders of Georgia. It was originally added to the list by Ella Mae Thornton.” 

Cordelia’s brow quirked. “How’d you know all that?” Misty pointed to a sign beside them that displayed the information. “Oh.” She laughed. Her hand clasped Misty’s in spite of the warmth between them and the steam in the air. “It smells nice here… Very fresh.” Misty hummed her agreement. She was already at peace with the place, the sounds of the birds and the rattling of the bugs. She couldn’t get enough. 

They made their way into the front of the center, bought their admission tickets, and then the world was their oyster. “So where are we going to start?” Cordelia asked, glancing around at the signs in different directions. Misty held a brochure out to her, and they shuffled out of the way of the small oncoming crowd, bumping heads as they shared the pamphlet and accompanying map. “Oh, educational seminar!” Cordelia pointed. “Do you want to go to that?” 

“Sure!” Misty wanted to do it all, and she knew Cordelia loved learning, so they could start with that. 

A female presenter showed them a baby alligator. The kids gathered around to pet it. “Don’t you want to pet the alligator?” Cordelia whispered to her. 

“Nah, I do that all the time.” Cordelia’s alarmed look in response gave Misty more amusement than a baby alligator ever could, and she gave Cordelia’s hand a gentle squeeze. 

The presenter continued, “Here, I’ve got a rare species of snake. This is called an indigo snake, and they’re endangered, but they’re protected here in Okefenokee.” The snake kept trying to slither out of her hands, and she kept catching him, giving him the illusion that he was going somewhere. “They’re nonvenomous, so their bite won’t poison you. But this little guy is just a baby. They can actually reach over ten feet in length!” When she put the snake down, she replaced him with a tortoise. “This here is our resident gopher. His name is Simon.” The gopher extended himself from his shell and limped onward, missing a limb. “Simon got his leg bitten off by an alligator snapping turtle, which we also have here in Okefenokee. Remember to be very careful around the waters here, folks. No swimming!” 

Next, they followed a hiking tour group where they were introduced to all of the species of trees and other native plants. “This one here is a broadleaf plantain. If you’re from around the southern US, you’ve probably seen these sprouting up in your yard!” Misty nodded. She knew all about the broadleaf plantain; in fact, she was barely listening to any of the education provided by the staff on site, but rather enjoying being beside Cordelia and the smell of the fresh air and the sounds of the birds. “Every part of this plant is edible. It also has some medicinal properties. It’s considered a coagulant for bleeding wounds and an antiseptic. But this isn’t the only edible plant in the forest. Georgia is home to native blueberry, blackberry, elderberry, and black raspberry bushes, as well as persimmons, plums, mulberries, and crabapples.” 

The day wore on. They rode a train of carts around a trail and were introduced to bobcats and more alligators; they toured the souvenir shop (though they both decided they would pick out their souvenirs when they came back tomorrow); they met some tourists from Germany and France; they had some stranger take their picture with their faces through a wooden board as cartoon alligators doing a dance. 

The sun was lowering as late afternoon gave way to evening as they boarded a boat for a boat tour. Cordelia swatted some mosquitos off of her neck. “They get bad around sunset,” Misty observed. 

“Why are they only on me?” 

“It’s because you’re so much sweeter than everybody else.” Cordelia blushed, ducking her head in embarrassment, but Misty stayed close to her and dusted mosquitos off of her exposed skin whenever she noticed one landing on her.  _ We’ll need to grab an anti-itch cream and some bug spray on our way back to the hotel. They’re eating her alive.  _

The boat motor grunted to life and started around the canal. The tour guide introduced himself, and then he began to speak. “Okefenokee is a blackwater swamp, which means the water is more acidic than in a whitewater river. As you can see, the water here is filled with peat, and the acid dissolves the peat, creating this tea colored water.” It was another education which Misty more or less tuned out, leaning against Cordelia and staring at her as the setting sun set her caramel-colored hair ablaze.  _ I would love to kiss her right now.  _ She didn’t dare, not in front of all these people.  _ But it would be really romantic to do it at sunset over the water when she’s so damn beautiful. _ The light made her honey-toned eyes melt and dance and glimmer. 

“Young man, please keep your hands out of the water,” the tour guide recommended to a pre-teen boy who kept sticking his hands into the water and scooping it out to splash the boy beside him. As the tour guide spoke, Cordelia scooted closer to Misty, away from the miscreant on her other side. “Thank you.” 

The boat rattled on, but the boy ignored instructions more than once as he plunged his hands back into the water, and the tour guide couldn’t reprimand him any further—it wasn’t like they could remove him from the boat in the middle of the swamp for failing to obey directions. The other passengers scowled. “You might notice,” the guide said, “that the alligators are becoming a little more active now. They’re primarily crepuscular, though some favor nocturnal behavior patterns, and others are diurnal.”

The boy’s hand plunged back into the water. Misty slipped her hand from Cordelia’s and stretched out her legs, leaning back to pop her spine and her tight neck. A force slammed into the boat. The boy shrieked. The impact knocked Misty off balance, and she pitched backward into the water. The motor of the boat flashed off—the water stopped churning around her—but as she surfaced, rapid splashing panicked beside her. The shrieking carried on. A man and a woman each took Misty by the arms and dragged her up back into the boat. 

As her torso crested over the edge of the boat, Misty blinked the dark water from her eyes, squinting at the blurry picture—the boy, his hand trapped in the mouth of a huge alligator, and Cordelia beside him, walloping the alligator in the snout to try to force it to release. The boat careened and tipped with the added weight of the massive reptile. Cordelia smacked it again and again, but the alligator tipped its head, beginning to roll. She slammed her fist into one of its eyes. 

The mighty jaws popped loose. The man and the woman finished tugging Misty into the boat, as she spilled unceremoniously onto the floor of it, sodden and coughing in surprise. “Are you alright?” one of them asked. Misty nodded, pushing herself up, just in time to watch the alligator lunge again. 

This time, it grabbed Cordelia by the wrist, and it didn’t waste any time in thinking about it. It kicked off from the boat, snatching her down with it. Misty bounced up. “Cordelia!” she shrieked. She fought her way to the edge of the boat. The other passengers blocked her. She lost sight of the alligator as its form disappeared underwater, Cordelia’s shoes vanishing alongside it.  _ Get out of my way.  _ With forceful telekinesis, she propelled them out of the way and vaulted headfirst into the water. 

It consumed her, this darkness; she couldn’t see anything at all. She swam blindly in the direction she had last seen the alligator take Cordelia. The dark tone of the water shrouded anything she could have seen, and the weak setting sunlight illuminated very little. She pushed forward through the murky water.  _ Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.  _ If she exuded panic, the alligators would see her. If she exuded her natural aura, they would pass her by. She knew this… But sticking to it was so much more difficult when she had just watched an animal drag Cordelia away into the depths of an unfamiliar swamp as nighttime grew nearer and nearer by the minute. 

She swam onward, unfazed, only surfacing to suck in a deep breath and scream, “ _ Cordelia! _ ” with a prayer that, wherever Cordelia was, she could hear her and would call back. She lost count of how many times she did this, never getting an answer in return, until her chest ached and her limbs burned, and still she pushed onward, onward, unable to consider the alternative if she caved and turned back. 

A dazed, nauseated feeling swept over Misty. She surfaced, gasping for air, looking around—she had lost sight of the boat and of any signs of the alligator and its prey. Her stomach twisted. Her feet grew colder and colder. There was a tingle in her privates; her breasts grew sore.  _ I’m gonna pass out. _ She dragged herself up onto the roots of a tree, resting on the shallow shore, and then she lay flat. Feelings inundated her, washing up and down her limbs, her spine, her sensitive abdomen. Everything was cold and hot and twitching. The air tasted foul. She couldn’t get comfortable, like a feverish patient, and then—

It ended. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, blinking a few times.  _ My eyes… _ Misty had ignored her need for mild-strength prescription glasses since she was in high school, but the world now spoke to her in full clarity.  _ I can hear more clearly.  _ She could pick apart each individual sound and could narrow down the location of each one. Inhaling deeply, she allowed the scents to wash over her. They were more magnified than before.  _ What the hell happened? _

Her breath froze in her throat when it struck her: the magic had entered her body and revitalized it, made it new, made it the pillar of health it needed to lead the coven to success. She was now the Supreme. 

Cordelia was dead. 

“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuckfuckfuck,” Misty whispered as she flung herself back into the water. She  _ had _ to find Cordelia, and fast, before her spirit could get any farther from her corpse.  _ Nan is gonna kill me.  _ The whole coven was going to kill her. This was supposed to be a romantic, relaxing vacation, but instead she had dragged Cordelia to a damn  _ swamp _ and gotten her killed.  _ Disney World is sounding a lot better right about now.  _ They could have ridden the Matterhorn, they could’ve gone to Epcot, they could’ve purchased slews of souvenirs… No, instead, they were going to remember this day as the day Cordelia got dragged out of a boat and killed by a giant reptile. 

_ What can I do?  _ She couldn’t even think of where to start. The sun had almost completely vanished from the sky. Under the cover of nightfall, she had no hope of seeing Cordelia, or anything else in the darkness for that matter. She was a sitting duck with no hope of recovering Cordelia’s body. Treading water, Misty lifted her hands before her.  _ Maybe I can generate some light.  _

A soft, white ball of light appeared between her two palms. “Lead me to Cordelia,” she whispered, uncertain if it would work—she had no idea the limitations or extensions of the power of the Supreme, but now that the magic was under her thumb, she knew she had to utilize it before she lost Cordelia forever. The white ball drifted out of her hands, and then it lifted away. Misty paddled after it, anxiously keeping her head above the water as she churned after the holy light. 

She fought slow currents in her journey, limbs aching and shaking, and she squinted to follow the light in the darkness, unable to see anything else.  _ Be peaceful. Be peaceful.  _ She could hear the nighttime animals stirring around her, and she didn’t need any of them to decide to interfere with her search. Silver flashes of fish stirred against her limbs. A frog sprung off of a log and used her as a stepping stone before jumping into the water. The cold water sent her skin into a smattering of gooseflesh. The water splashed into her eyes and burned them with its acidic peat. Then, several yards ahead, the white light vanished. 

It dove under the water. Misty pursued it, sucking in a deep breath and diving, eyes open and pouring tears with the agony of everything rolling past them. Resting at the bed of the river, Cordelia drifted along, face-down. Her shoes were missing. Her hair floated around her in a halo, silver in the dim light. Her arm, still leaking blood from the wound, was barely attached by a strand of sinew and skin with the broken bone visible. Misty’s lungs burned. She gathered up Cordelia around the chest and kicked off of the floor of the blackwater river.  _ I have to find shore.  _ She heaved the heavy corpse up to the surface. Her face barely breached it; Cordelia was a sinking, dead weight, and Misty was too exhausted to try to help her. As the fear encroached inside of Misty, the water stirred. The predators could sense her as she grew more anxious.  _ Calm down. _

Calming down was difficult when every splash of water entered her nose and burned her mouth. Cordelia’s body dragged her lower and lower. She floundered, fighting to keep a hand on Cordelia’s body and keep herself afloat. Fatigue drained her.  _ I can’t even see the shore.  _ She paddled with one arm uselessly, unable to tell if she went forward or backward or if she neared a bank. When she felt the brush of bark, she grabbed it. 

Her arms gave out. Cordelia slipped out of her grasp and began to sink. “No,” Misty breathed to herself. She grabbed a fistful of Cordelia’s sodden clothing and hair. She needed somewhere lower. She wasn’t strong enough to pull herself out of the water, let alone Cordelia, too. The bank had to be low enough for her to slide to shore.  _ I could drift for hours before I find a spot like that.  _ She didn’t have hours. Without the sun, the water rapidly cooled, leaching her of all of her warmth. Her teeth chattered. Shivers wracked her already spastic muscles. She fumbled again, trying to find somewhere to grab hold with her feet so she could push off. But the bed was far too deep for her to have any hope of kicking off successfully. 

Wrapping her arm around Cordelia’s torso, she quaked from head to toe.  _ Is this how I die?  _ Who would become the Supreme, then? It would be too late for the new Supreme to save her and Cordelia.  _ Maybe I would regenerate again _ . But the water would separate their corpses, no matter how hard she clung to Cordelia now. She bowed her head forward and smelled Cordelia’s hair.  _ I have to keep fighting.  _ She fumbled along the bank with one arm, feeling her way along, seeking a place even slightly lower with even slightly longer roots so she could pull them both to shore. 

Under the moonlight, the silhouette of a deer caught her eye. The water droplets glimmered in her eyelashes, casting the animal into an ethereal light. It was a buck, a full rack but still covered in felt, with his noble head lifted up and his angled leg poised toward her.  _ Is that…? _ She churned her weak limbs in the direction of the stag. The slow drift came faster, until she hovered just beneath his feet. The mighty animal bowed his head. The points of his felt-covered rack were right before her. There was a glimmer in his tender, brown eyes. Misty lifted one pathetic arm and looped it around the antlers of the buck, the other still fastened around Cordelia’s body. 

Lifting his head, the buck hauled backward, dragging them upward onto the shoreline. Misty’s legs kicked, seeking leverage, and once they had some, she propelled the two of them further inward, away from the edge of the water. The buck hauled them several more feet before Misty’s arm could no longer support their weight, and she slipped away from him, wrapping herself around Cordelia. 

The animal lowered his wet muzzle, puffing low. Misty’s eyes flitted up to his.  _ A life for a life.  _ She had saved him, and now he saved her in turn. The intelligence of animals would never fail to astound her. “Thank you,” she whispered. He turned on one cloven hoof and silently padded away. Misty rolled onto her side. She couldn’t stop fighting. She needed to find somewhere close, somewhere dry, they could rest while Cordelia recovered. It was going to take several hours for her arm to mend and several more for her blood supply to regenerate. They needed shelter, but she couldn’t make it very far. Standing on rubbery limbs, she took Cordelia by the ankles and dragged her along like some terrible wheelbarrow. In any other case, she would have tried to lift her, but right now, she knew such an attempt would only hurt both of them. 

Wandering inland, she struggled until she found a fallen tree, its roots ripped up but still holding earth, leaving a sheltered gap. She ducked down and crawled inside, dragging Cordelia with her. A snake slithered out of the hole, aggravated at the disturbance. “Cordelia,” she whispered. Under the hollow, there was no light. She conjured another ball of light, this one even weaker than the last. It flickered like a candle nearing its death. Misty’s wearied muscles shuddered as she smeared dirt across the wound and packed it, trying her best to reattach Cordelia’s arm to her body. “This is gonna leave a mighty scar, m’love,” she murmured. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “‘M so sorry.” Her tongue was thick and fat with thirst. Clumsy hands tore open Cordelia’s blouse and pressed to her bare skin. 

Dragging down into the deepest drudges of her soul, Misty willed Cordelia’s life to come back to her. She summoned the spirit and expelled the death, working from her abdomen upward. The flesh warmed under her touch. “Come back to me,” she mumbled. “Come back to me…” As the life flushed back into Cordelia, all of the power drained from Misty—both her own and that of the Supreme reentering its rightful owner. “Come back…” Misty’s hands framed her face. Body heat pulsed through her face. Cordelia’s chest lifted with a deep breath. Misty collapsed across her, blacked out. 

… 

When Misty awoke, the world around her had dim sunlight sifting through the lichen and roots of the upturned tree. She blinked, rubbing the dirt from her face where it had drifted down upon her. “Oh, god,” she whispered, her head throbbing. She rolled onto her side to blink over at Cordelia, whose chest rose and fell evenly. She had not stirred from where Misty had laid her last night. Misty scooted out beside her, checking her pulses in all of her extremities. Even the bad arm had a strong pulse. She didn’t dare peek under the mud to see how the scar looked, yet. 

Thirst pulled at her. She fumbled around in her pockets, pulling out her cell phone. It refused to come to life.  _ Is the battery dead, or is it waterlogged? _ It didn’t matter either way; if the phone wasn’t going to work, it was useless to her right now. She felt around in Cordelia’s pockets, but she couldn’t find her phone.  _ Probably lost it with her shoes… _ She patted her back pocket.  _ … And our damn keys.  _ She sighed. Her mouth was dry and swollen.  _ I have to find something to drink and try to get us something to eat.  _ She didn’t want to leave Cordelia alone, but if she was going to be here for several more days, she would have no choice but to get them something to subsist on eventually. 

Misty was no stranger to living in the wilderness, but at least she had had pots and pans, a garden, a firepit, and adequate shelter. Now, she had nothing. If she managed to ignite a fire, she had nothing to hold water to boil it so it would be safe to drink. Leaning down, Misty pressed a kiss to Cordelia’s temple. “I’ll be right back,” she croaked, just in case Cordelia could hear her. 

Staggering out into the light of the day, Misty surveyed their surroundings. There was no trail in sight. The stale river where they had come out last night was more forgiving in the sunlight. Deer tracks passed by their hollow, like their buck friend had checked in on them during the night.  _ We’ll have to drink swamp water.  _ Misty didn’t see any other choice. She didn’t love the idea of drinking the gross swamp water filled with parasites and bacteria. But she also didn’t love the idea of kidney failure.  _ I need to start a fire. Contain it, use it as an SOS.  _ Everyone had seen the alligator take Cordelia and had seen Misty dive after her. Surely people were looking for them. 

Misty began to gather rocks. “Not a search and rescue, though,” she whispered to herself glumly. No one would ever send out a search and rescue for a woman dragged off by an alligator. Anyone who met that fate was assumed dead—for good reason. They would send out teams in the hopes of recovering their bodies, and who knew if they would act with any haste in doing it. No, she had to take care of them herself.

Whole body throbbing, Misty piled up rocks in a fairly tall circle, stacking stones worn flat by the waterside. She tossed some dry branches into the center, and then she closed her eyes and willed it to light.  _ Fire. Fire. Fire. _ A tiny ember sparked to life, and the branches quickly fed it.  _ I’m going to need more firewood. _ The fallen tree had produced many, many dead and decaying branches. Misty stacked them by her makeshift fire pit so she could feed it when it went down. Then, quivering with exhaustion and thirst, she went to the riverside and dipped her face down into the blackwater river, reluctantly drinking from its acidic, peat-ridden surface. 

It didn’t taste nearly as bad as she expected. It was sweet, like tea. She drank until she couldn’t drink anymore. Then, she found a piece of bark in the shape of a small dish, and she wandered within a close radius of the hollow—she never let it out of her sight—in search of something edible.  _ I should’ve been listening to that seminar yesterday, when he told us about all of the edible plants.  _ She recognized blackberries and plucked them, dropping them one by one into the dish, even the ones that weren’t ripe yet. She found broadleaf plantains by the dozen and tore them from the earth. She ripped up a handful of wild onions. There was a copse of elderberry trees in the distance—she recognized the beautiful white flowers—but she didn’t dare leave Cordelia long enough to go all the way to get them, especially at the risk of getting turned around and not being able to find Cordelia again. 

She searched the area for anything, even trash, that she could use to carry water to the hollow, but she didn’t see anything. There was no visible garbage here.  _ That’s not good. _ This land had gone untouched by humans for a long enough time that human crap was not an issue. The odds of anyone finding them here were slim. Cordelia had to recover enough for them to try to follow the river back up to the reserve, where hopefully people were looking for them.  _ I have to have some way to carry water to her in the meantime, though.  _ She was not strong enough to drag Cordelia all the way out to the riverside whenever she was thirsty. Misty glanced down at her disgusting, waterlogged shoes. No, she couldn’t have Cordelia drink out of her shoes. Besides, they wouldn’t hold water very well. Instead, she took a large, fresh leaf from a tree and spread her few fruits and foodstuff across it, and she took the dish-shaped bark to the waterside. It only held four or five swallows of water, but it was something. Anything was something for Cordelia’s still, recovering body. 

Misty settled beside her, resting Cordelia’s head in her lap. She did not move again. She picked at the blackberries, only eating four or five of them. She was not hungry. She was exhausted. Curling up on her side, she rested her head on Cordelia’s shoulder, gazing at her face with heavy-lidded eyes falling closed. “Delia,” she murmured, “I miss you…”  _ How did things go so wrong? _ She stroked Cordelia’s dirty hair. 

Outside, dark clouds gathered overhead.  _ If it rains, the fire will go out.  _ All of the wood would be wet. She would have a hard time lighting another fire. Just as she thought it, the pitter patter of rain falling drifted from overhead. Misty hugged Cordelia around the middle and closed her eyes, resisting the urge to cry as she held tight to the woman she loved. Though she had lived many lives alone, she had seldom felt as lonely as she did right now. Thunder crackled overhead, darkness pouring over the landscape, and it was to this devastating sound that Misty drifted off to sleep, the last hints of her carefully-constructed firepit smoldering into nothingness. 

“Misty…” The barest word, hardly discernible from the howling winds and pelting rains just outside, stirred Misty from her slumber. She blinked a few times, her eyes growing accustomed to the darkness. She could scarcely make out the outline of Cordelia’s body. Thunder cracked overhead. She flinched. The water poured down from the sky, but the hollow kept them dry, only the soil growing more wet as it soaked in from above. “Misty,” Cordelia uttered again. 

Misty lifted her head. “I’m right here. I’m right here, honeybee.” She rubbed her eyes with her dirty fists. “I found you…” Feeling around in the darkness, she stroked Cordelia’s cheeks. “I found you.” Tears sprang to her eyes, choking out her voice, but she refused to allow herself to cry for fear of frightening Cordelia. Cordelia had endured enough—she couldn’t be scared, too. She needed Misty to be strong for her. 

Cordelia nuzzled her face into Misty’s hand. “Is the boy okay?” She wheezed the words in slow pants, not yet having the strength to manage much as her body rebuilt itself. Misty’s brows quirked.  _ What boy? _ “The one… on the boat.” 

_ Oh, that little fucker who kept sticking his hands in the water.  _ Fury pulsed through Misty. If it weren’t for the disobedient little twerp, they wouldn’t be here. “I—I don’t know.” She stifled her rage. Expressing anger now would do no one any favors. She needed to conserve her energy. “I didn’t see.” 

Heavy eyelashes brushed up against her palm. “Where are we?” 

“I don’t know.” Misty touched her nose to Cordelia’s face, feeling her warmth. Her wet clothes were still cutting their cold into her skin. She craved something dry and warm. “We’re lost. I don’t know where we ended up.”

Hesitating, Cordelia’s lips shivered. “Please don’t leave me alone.” Her dark eyes glistened. 

“I would never,” Misty vowed. She kissed her temple. “You’re safe with me, now. I’m not going to let anything else happen to you.” She wrapped a lock of Cordelia’s tangled hair around her finger and enjoyed its soft dampness. 

Her voice grew a bit stronger as she caught her breath. The rain outside cascaded down in powerful sheets. “Did I die?” 

“Yes.” Misty knew better than to lie to her. 

“But now I’m alive.”

“You know that’s my specialty.” 

Cordelia smiled into her hand, a small, grim thing. Misty wanted to kiss her. “How did you find me? How did you save me?” She nudged her face forward, their noses brushing up against one another’s. The smell of her breath settled Misty’s anxious stomach with relief. “I missed you, in the dark…” 

A quiver passed through Misty at those precious, precious words. “I swam after you… I made a little light, and it took me to you. Then a deer helped me get us up the bank.” She decided not to tell Cordelia about her fifteen minutes of fame, when she had been the Supreme from the time Cordelia died until she had breathed the life back into Cordelia’s body.  _ It’s scary. The magic thinks I’m second in command.  _ She didn’t know why any of the witches had ever wanted that power. None of them were suited to wield it except Cordelia. She prayed the day never came that Cordelia could no longer practice as Supreme. “I found us this hollow and here we are.” 

Shuffling beside her, Cordelia started to push herself up. Misty scrambled after her to support her. “Be careful!” She knew Cordelia had lost a lot of blood, and she didn’t want her blood pressure to bottom out. “How does your arm feel?” 

Leaning into Misty’s body, Cordelia exhaled through her nose. “It’s sore, but… Well, it’s attached, isn’t it?”  _ Yeah, that was a hard one. _ Misty kissed her cheek, drawing Cordelia closer to her in an attempt to heat her chilled body. “I—I remember it didn’t hurt…” In silence, Misty waited for her to continue. “I thought it should hurt, but it didn’t. I was too shocked to feel anything. I thought— _ this is scary, I should be scared, this should hurt _ , but it didn’t. I wasn’t even afraid.” Combing her hands through Cordelia’s hair, she pulled the damp, dirt locks out of her face. “It got really cold. I thought about you. I—I thought I heard your voice. Calling my name. I felt safe like that. And then it was over.” 

_ You felt safe bleeding out at the bottom of the river?  _ Shock was a hell of a drug. “You are safe,” Misty promised. “I’m going to protect you.” She had to keep Cordelia safe. She had already messed up once. “And… I’m sorry this turned out to be the worst vacation ever. I should’ve just taken you to Disney like you wanted.” 

“Not the worst vacation ever.”

Misty snorted. “You can top literally getting dragged away and killed by an alligator in the middle of an unfamiliar swamp?” 

Cordelia pursed her lips. “On my honeymoon, I got lost outside the resort in Tijuana.” She licked her lips. “Or… in retrospect, Hank probably set me up to  _ go missing. _ ”  _ Yeah, _ Misty thought,  _ that checks out.  _ Witch hunters were not exactly known for their proclivities to be good people. He hadn’t had the pants to kill Cordelia himself, but by dropping her off in a violent area and abandoning her, he could very well have hoped that someone else would do the work for him. “He flew back home the next day with all of my money and my things while I wandered around the city, not speaking the language and sleeping in church pews. It took five days for Fiona to find me.” Cordelia paused. “I really should’ve seen the breakdown of that relationship coming from a hundred miles away, shouldn’t have I?” 

“I can’t believe you stayed.”

“I can’t believe I did, either,” Cordelia admitted. “I told Fiona it was my fault for wandering off and spent months  _ apologizing  _ to him for ruining our honeymoon. God, I’m such a fucking doormat.” 

Misty nestled her face into the crook of Cordelia’s warm neck. “Well, I’ll make sure the next honeymoon is perfect… And we  _ won’t _ be going to  _ any _ swamps.” She paused.  _ I may never want to go to a swamp again.  _ Misty’s opinion on alligators had been altogether transformed by this experience. “You know what, you pick the destination for all of our vacations henceforth.”

Cordelia chuckled to herself. “You’re so sweet, Misty.” Her hand found Misty’s and tangled up with hers. “I’m glad you’re here with me… Even if it did go to shit.” 

Peppering kisses on her neck, Misty smiled. All of her fear and anxiety had faded now that Cordelia was awake and growing stronger. They would find their way out of this together. She hugged Cordelia tight around the middle. “Where do you want to go next?” They couldn’t go anywhere in the pouring rain, and she didn’t want Cordelia to move around too much. Dreaming seemed to be the best course of action.

“Where do you want to go?” 

“I’m out of all major decision-making processes indefinitely.” 

Cordelia laughed. “This isn’t that bad, Misty… We’re together. We’re safe. We’ve got a hell of a story to tell when we get back. What more could we want?” 

“A calm couple of days spent enjoying the natural wonders of Georgia, getting bitten by skeeters, going to a romantic restaurant every night, getting a little tipsy and having really awesome sex in our hotel room?” 

Another quiet laugh fluttered from Cordelia. “I don’t disagree with your plans, either.” She turned her head back and kissed Misty on the lips. “And I promise you every bit of that when we get out of this.” Misty kissed her back in return, relishing in the sensation of Cordelia’s body pressed against hers. She had never known joy such as this. 

…

The night passed with them sleeping erratically, stirred periodically by the weather, and occasionally nibbling on Misty’s few preserves she had gotten from the forest. When Misty awoke again, the sun filtered in through the hollow, but Cordelia was gone. Rubbing her bleary eyes, she crawled out of the hollow to see Cordelia at the edge of the water, which had risen considerably with the rain, leaning over to drink from it like a wild animal. Misty sat back on her butt. The sun was warm, and her clothes were finally beginning to dry. 

Cordelia turned and spotted her. She walked shakily, clumsily, but her wounded arm had closed over into a ridged, bright pink scar. “Morning.” She was pale, weak, her hair clumped with dirt and beginning to mat into chunks. She had a distinct limp; no shoes protected her feet. “Are you ready to go?” she asked, extending an arm to Misty.  _ Ready to go? _ Misty wondered. “We can follow the river back to the reserve… can’t we?” 

“You can barely walk,” Misty cautioned. “Maybe we should wait. They have to be looking for us.” 

“I’m not going to get any stronger without food.”  _ She’s right.  _ Her dizziness could be due to hunger as much as blood loss, and no amount of broadleaf plantains in the world could measure up to a thing of French fries—which Misty was, once again, craving. “Do you really think they’re going to waste much time looking for us? They can’t be expecting to find either of us alive.” 

Misty took Cordelia’s hand. “Yeah…” She shoveled a hand through her own disgusting hair. “I know.” They had no other choice. They had to walk and hope they hadn’t gone too far upriver.  _ I’m with her.  _ She wouldn’t let anything happen to Cordelia while they were together. If they needed to rest, they would rest. If they needed shelter, they would find it. Cordelia was in the habit of overburdening herself, but with Misty here, that wouldn’t happen. “Okay.” She folded her fingers in between Cordelia’s. Her back and her limbs ached, not yet recovered from the immense strain she had put on them when she worked so hard to save them both. “Let’s go.” 

They wore on, moving like a couple of snails with cracked shells. Misty gave Cordelia her shoes—Cordelia protested vociferously, but Misty wore her down, insisting that her feet were basically shoes anyway from the days she spent living in these conditions. Keeping one arm around Cordelia’s waist, Misty held her up if she started to feel faint or dizzy and lowered her to the ground if it became overwhelming. She stopped to pick blackberries from along the riverside, bringing them to Cordelia, where she sat on a softening old log. 

Cordelia swallowed the bitter, unripe berries. “What are you eating?” she asked.

“Sassafras leaves,” Misty mumbled around a mouthful of tough leaves. “They’re terrible, do you want some?” Cordelia’s brows pinched together, and she shook her head. Misty sat beside her and held out a roundish green fruit. “Pawpaw fruit,” she said. “It tastes really strange.” Cordelia took one of these. Misty took a clean bite out of one. 

“The seminar said the pawpaw fruit skin is inedible,” Cordelia said.

Misty shrugged. “I’ve eaten these tons of times. Just spit the seeds.” Cordelia bit into the fruit just like Misty had done. The skin tasted horrible. But it was food. They didn’t have any tools to peel anything, and she was hungry. “I’d kill a man for a thing of fries,” Misty mumbled around mouthful of the fruit, spitting the seeds. 

“Me, too,” Cordelia confessed. “Or chicken nuggets.” 

Their hunger abated enough for them to climb to their feet and begin walking again, following the river back the way it had brought them. 

Soon enough, the sun hung low over the horizon. “We probably shouldn’t be wandering around after dark,” Misty said.  _ I don’t know if we’re any closer to the reserve than we were hours ago.  _ Cordelia was weaker than ever, hungry and worn, as she leaned her half-awake head on Misty’s shoulder. She had insisted they keep moving, but with each passing moment, her head hung lower. “Let’s look for a place to rest.” She knew they couldn’t sleep out in the middle of the wilderness. They needed a shelter. 

Pushing through another thicket, Misty heard a distinct sound, like the purr of a motor. She glanced around. Cordelia lifted her wearied head. “Do you hear that?” she asked. 

“Yeah… I do…” Misty stepped forward, but Cordelia stumbled, making a quiet noise as her feet no longer wanted to support her weight. Pale and haggard, she clung to the front of Misty’s shirt, but even those limbs began to go limp. Misty dove after her, holding onto her as she collapsed. “I got you, I got you,” Misty whispered, gathering her up, helping her slide to the ground without hurting herself.  _ I let her push herself too far.  _ “Put your arms around my neck.” They couldn’t stop now. Clumsy and pathetic, Cordelia obeyed, and Misty hoisted her up onto her aching back and plunged forward. 

Cordelia’s chin rested on Misty’s shoulder. She kinked her ankles together in front of Misty’s body. Misty bowed forward under the added weight, into the darkness, toward the sound of the motorboat, and she stumbled from the foliage straight off of the bank, the dark water blending perfectly into the earth. When she felt herself falling, she let go of Cordelia, who landed on the ground with a sharp, “ _ Oof! _ ” and Misty vanished under the deep, chilly water. 

Misty clawed her way back up to the surface. Cordelia grabbed her hands and fought with what little remaining strength she had to pull Misty to the shore. Drenched and quaking, she fumbled her way out of the water. Cordelia reached for her. “Are you okay?” Her hands pawed at Misty’s face, and Misty nodded into her touch. 

On the water, a light flickered in the distance, bold and LED. A boat jetted back and forth across the surface of the water. Misty and Cordelia lifted their fatigued heads. “Help!” Misty bleated. “Help, we’re over here!” The motor died where the boat rested. “Help!” She waved her arms. “Help!” 

The boat gunned its engine again, and it turned toward them, heading across the water. Cordelia sighed with relief, burying her face in Misty’s sodden hair. The boat bumped the opposing bank, and a police officer and several people in scuba suits rose. “Misty Day and Cordelia Goode?” Misty nodded, her teeth chattering as she made eye contact with him. “You’re safe.” 

They were helped into the boat, wrapped in blankets together. Cordelia drowsed with her head still resting against Misty. At the reserve, EMS waited to evaluate them, and beside the ambulance…  _ Oh, shit. _ As Misty stumbled forward, her arm around Cordelia’s waist, she lifted her head to watch Nan, Madison, Queenie, and Zoe all dash toward them. 

Madison reached her first, and to Misty’s astonishment, she was greeted with a hug. “Oh my god, I thought I’d never get to hit you again!” Nan followed suit, piling onto the hug, while Zoe and Queenie caught Cordelia and embraced her. Misty’s jaw chattered, but she still struggled to smile. Madison held her at arm’s length. “I  _ told  _ you this was a shit place to take anyone on vacation! But you couldn’t listen to me, could you?” 

“Madison,” Cordelia reprimanded sleepily. 

“They’re in love now,” Nan said smugly. “That was all I really cared about.” 

Queenie grinned and held up a paper bag. “I bought Whataburger.” 

Misty took a thing of fries. “Oh, thank god.” Her voice shivered. “Delia… They got me  _ fries. _ ” She dumped a generous handful of them into her mouth and passed her a box of chicken nuggets. “We just spent two days eating leaves.” She wanted to cry. French fries had never tasted so good.  _ I’ll never take carbs for granted again.  _

Cordelia drank eagerly from a water bottle, and she perked up once it was empty and she had a few chicken nuggets in her stomach. She blinked, studying the council before her, and then she cocked her head. “If you’re all here… Who’s with the coven?”

Nothing sounded but the crickets and the cicadas of the surrounding swamp. They all looked at one another, mouths hanging open. “We thought you were both dead!” Madison interjected. “We panicked! There’s a viral video! It was all over the news!” As she said it, Zoe pulled up the video on her phone, and Cordelia and Misty drew closer to one another to watch their former selves. A woman opposite them on the boat had been recording the tour guide’s rambling when the boat hitched, and she whipped her phone around to catch Misty toppling backward off of the boat and Cordelia leaping on top of the vicious animal that clutched a young boy by the hand. Two strangers shuffled onto the screen to grab Misty and drag her back aboard, but as soon as she landed on the floor, the alligator broke free from the boy and seized Cordelia instead, snatching her off of the boat. A pulse of telekinetic force thrummed from Misty as she shoved people out of her way and launched back into the water, shrieking Cordelia’s name. 

“We did leave Kyle,” Zoe provided helpfully. “We told him to order pizza for dinner and do a double headcount before bed, and call if he couldn’t find anyone.” 

Cordelia blinked slowly and carefully. “You left  _ Kyle _ in charge of an entire school of teenage girls?” They nodded mutely. She released a long breath. “I should be furious with all of you, but I’m too tired to care much right now.” She leaned over, resting her head on Misty’s shoulders again, while Misty busied herself licking all of the salt from the bottom of the fry container. 

“We really did have the best of intentions,” Queenie insisted, and Madison added, “And we  _ really _ tried to talk Misty out of the swamp.” 

Cordelia smiled, a sleepy thing. “I know, girls. I appreciate it.” She thought for a moment, and then she added, “This may be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

Madison snorted. “No offense, Cordy, but that’s really fucking sad.” 

“Not if it’s a happy ending,” Nan defended. 

Their weak chuckles floated up again, and Misty relished in the happiness of the ending, however tumultuous the start.  _ Operation Save the Supreme is a success.  _


End file.
